


Peace Comes Dropping Slow

by NienteZero



Category: Leverage
Genre: Ficlet, Future Fic, Multi, Politics, Wish Fulfillment
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-04
Updated: 2018-10-04
Packaged: 2019-07-25 07:45:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 656
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16193156
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NienteZero/pseuds/NienteZero
Summary: A glimpse into a happy future.





	Peace Comes Dropping Slow

There'd been a war, when it came down to it. Leverage, Inc, looking back, was just the first skirmishes of the big showdown to come, between the transnationals and oligarchs who did not give one shit for the little people, and people like the five of them who were willing to stand up and fight.

A lot of it was out of Eliot's scope. Hardison, of course, had a lot on his hands countering election tampering. With teams led by Cyrus Mahadavi, and, ugh, Chaos, Hardison had created a world-wide network of grey hats who quietly fostered functioning democracy.

Parker had taken one look at the real landscape ahead of them, once she'd absorbed the contents of the Black Book, and gone for a long think hanging off a tall building. Putting the puzzle pieces together she'd realized that they'd need to branch out, expand with trusted people. She'd proven to have a knack for organizing on a scale that made Nate proud. 

Still, no-one had quite expected her to have the chops to grift her way into the Senate and work her weird influence there to take out bad blood and champion election finance reform and business regulation. The age of shame had passed, so it was no longer a simple matter of finding a marital infidelity or a financial crime. But between the skills of the three of them a surprisingly large number of members of Congress had quietly decided to retire to spend more time with their families.

The American people seemed to respond to Parker's bluntness, although Hardison thought that being blonde and stunning might have helped as well. And his impeccable character background for her - she'd been untouchable, to the chagrin of their political enemies. He did have to draw the line at a run for Presidency. America wasn't quite ready for two first gentlemen.

Eliot had been on the ground a lot. Union organizing mostly. The way things had gone down, a return to labor having collective strength was a downright necessity. The big billionaires were hard to touch in a way that cut out enough of their power. People didn't realize just how vast the difference between a million and a billion dollars was. But without people on the ground doing the work to make their companies profitable, there was nothing to make money on. 

Eliot got his hands bloodied at the frontlines, taking on the worst of the union-busters and slipping in next to corrupt local police officers with his good ol' boy act to cut the feet out from under them too. Parker's big picture thinking had picked out key cities and regions and the momentum had grown. Though none of them could take credit for the massive labor movement that had swept through India and Bangladesh's textile industries.

It'd been a war, and a long one, but they'd made a difference, a real difference to how the world ran.

So now it was this - a better time, and a time to slow down. Eliot had picked the island, right off the coast of Portland, the climate they were all used to, some beautiful rock formations for Parker to free climb, and still in hailing distance of good internet for Hardison.

And for him, beehives, chickens, rows and rows of fresh growing vegetables. His hands in the soil, arthritic knuckles and all. His two most loved people with him, and Nate and Sophie in to visit whenever they were in the Pacific North West. Nate like some kind of proud grandpapa of democracy, white haired but sharp eyed still. Sophie with her phone in hand always cultivating connections and growing the next generations of smart sneaky people who'd make a difference.

Had he earned this peace? Not a question Eliot bothered with much any more. This peace, this gentle grip on the land and tight embrace of his family, deserve it or not he'd always treasure it.

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this really quickly this morning because I needed it. The title is from W.B. Yeats' "The Lake Isle of Innisfree", which is a beautiful poem. https://www.poets.org/poetsorg/poem/lake-isle-innisfree


End file.
